


Number Wanted

by MidnightMsSuki



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Based on a Tumblr Post, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-26
Updated: 2014-01-26
Packaged: 2018-01-10 03:38:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1154347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MidnightMsSuki/pseuds/MidnightMsSuki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Patrick Kane is a cheeky barista with an even cheekier chalkboard. Johnny's resistance is futile.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Number Wanted

**Author's Note:**

  * For [snowandflow (kellybean)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kellybean/gifts).



> Based on this picture
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> from this [tumblr](http://snowandflow.tumblr.com/post/72668344614/brolininthetardis-this-is-a-coffeeshop-au) post....
> 
> Unbeta-ed, all mistakes are my own, apologies in advance. Just a little plot bunny to get out. Thanks snowandflow!

**~*~*~**

Johnny stopped dead in his tracks when he saw the chalk board outside his favorite coffee shop. He read it five times as he stood in the middle of the sidewalk. 

_Today your barista is:_  
 _1\. Hella fucking gay._  
 _2\. Desperately single._

_For your drink today I recommend:  
You give me your number._

Johnny really hoped it was the cute blonde boy working today. Normally he didn't come by on the weekends but a case at work had him putting in extra hours this Saturday morning. He wasn't going to stop but then he saw the sign. 

He had been coming to this coffee shop for eight months now, every weekday morning on his way to his boring office job just for a glimpse of the curly, perpetually tousled hair and the sparkling blue eyes. He didn't know if he knew it or not but Pat (that's what his name tag said anyways) had this habit of licking his lips and every time he did it, Johnny had a hard time tearing his eyes away from his perfectly pouty mouth. 

He took a deep breath and pulled the door open, smiling politely at two women who passed as he held the door before crossing the threshold. His eyes searched the counter and he let out a disappointed sigh at seeing a new young, dark haired girl at the register. She looked twelve but Johnny guessed she was probably in college at the very least. He noticed her name tag read Andy as he nodded politely in her direction when she looked up in his direction.

"Pat will be right with you," she smiled. Johnny smiled in returned, suddenly nervous as he looked over the fresh baked pastries in the display case. It was quiet and still in the coffee shop, unlike seven am on weekday mornings he was used to. There were two men towards the back, both equally tall, one with curly red hair, the other with shiny brown hair, sipping coffee and sharing the morning paper. They shared a look and a smile, the red head leaning in to peck the brunette quickly on the lips. Nearby sat a small family, mom, dad, and two little girls, one in a stroller, obviously only a few months old, the other a precocious looking toddler with a high blonde ponytail and a bow in her hair. He looked back when he heard the swinging door to the back squeak open and Pat appeared. Johnny straightened quickly. 

"Hey," he said, lifting his hand to wave and then quickly dropping it to his side. 

Pat smirked. "Your usual?" He asked. 

"Please," Johnny answered. "And one of those cinnamon rolls?"

"You know that's just going to straight to your ass....on second thought though, I don't think that will be a problem for you," he said as Johnny turned towards the display. Johnny felt his whole body flush as Pat leaned a little over the counter for a better look. For a guy who obviously had some sort of stuffy office job, he was muscular in all the right places, built like a tree that he really wanted to climb. 

"What brings you out here today? I've never seen you on a weekend before," Pat mused as he grabbed a cup and began working on the drink, a decaf grande soy sugar free caramel macchiato. 

"There's uh, a case at work I'm preparing for."

"You a lawyer?"

"Paralegal at Chapman and Cutler; they specialize in financial law."

"That explains the suits. You wear purple really well."

"Thanks," Johnny said quietly, glancing down at the counter.

"Blue too. I've always liked this one," Pat said, reaching out to run a hand across his chest. Johnny blushed at his touch. "So tell me something else I don't know about you, Johnny."

"How do you know my name?"

"You've been ordering coffee from me for eight months. I learned a thing or two."

"Oh yeah."

"Something about you?" Pat prompted again. 

"Umm... I'm Canadian?"

"Really? That's interesting. Where in Canada?"

"Winnipeg."

"What brought you to Chicago then?"

"Work. What about you? Did you grow up here?"

"Naw. I'm from Buffalo. Came here when I was eighteen and never left."

"You like it here?"

"Love it. All the people, the excitement...never a dull moment."

"Dull is okay."

"Life isn't meant to be taken serious."

"Is that why you wrote the sign out front today?"

Pat chuckled. “Liked that, did you?”

“I can’t imagine that your boss would though.”

“Good thing I own the place then, eh?”

Pat grinned as Johnny’s face registered shock and surprise at his statement. “You own this place?” Johnny asked.

“Sure do. Got a business degree, opened a coffee shop. Everyone needs two things in life: strippers and coffee. One or the other was guaranteed to be a no fail plan.”

“I guess that is true,” Johnny allowed. “But why do you work out front if you own it?”

Pat shrugged. “I like meeting people. You never know who is going to walk in or what story they have. That guy back there, with the wife and two little girls? He plays for the Blackhawks.”

“Really?”

“Yep. The two guys? Come every Saturday morning and stay for exactly two hours and twelve minutes. Order the same coffees for themselves, switch halfway through, and read the paper. The one with the shiny vampire hair? In about two minutes, he’s going to start working on the cross word and the ginger will stop what he’s doing about ten minutes later to help him.”

“What have you observed about me?”

“You’re always serious. You need to loosen up.” Johnny frowned and Pat chuckled. “You come through the door at seven oh three every morning and it’s my favorite time of the the day.”

Johnny blushed as Pat turned away to continue making his drink with a smirk. He watched the smaller man work. He moved efficiently but quickly, juggling multiple things in his hands as he went. The bell over the front door jingled, pulling Johnny from his thoughts as a muscular, bearded man entered the coffee shop. He unwound his scarf and pulled off his jacket, his short sleeve t-shirt revealing tattoos on his forearm. ohnny moved aside as Andy walked to the register, a smile stretching from ear to ear as she leaned over the counter to kiss the man.

“No making out with the customers,” Pat called out teasingly. 

“Like you're not thinking about it,” Andy shot back.

“Touche,” Pat grinned as he turned with Johnny’s drink in hand. “How are you this morning, Brandon?”

“Wish it wasn’t so early,” the other man replied.

“It’s eleven am,” Johnny pointed out.

“Brandon is the best bartender in Chicago,” Pat told him. “Eleven is very early for him.”

“But I gotta come by and see my girl now or I won’t have the chance before her game later,” Brandon added.

“Game?” Johnny asked.

“Andy is the best damn hockey player at Robert Morris,” Pat said proudly. “We’re gonna close up early for the championship game at two this afternoon. You should come.”

“No, I couldn’t impose.”

“It’s not an imposition if you’re invited.”

“But work....” Johnny trailed off.

Pat shrugged. “If you change your mind,” he said, passing Johnny his drink.

“Thanks,” he replied lamely. He took the drink and turned to Andy. “Good luck today.” He turned and headed out the door, but not without one last glance over his shoulder at Pat, who smiled and waved.

“Have fun at work,” he laughed.

Johnny stepped back out into the cold February air and began the three block walk to the downtown office building the firm had offices. He set his drink on his desk and slipped off his jacket. He lifted the drink to his lips and stopped, pulling the cup away to study it. There, scrawled where his name should be was a phone number. He stared at it for several long seconds before pulling his phone out and dialing the number.

“I wondered if you’d notice,” Pat’s rich voice came over the line. 

“You gave me your number?” Johnny asked dumbly.

“I figured that even with the blatant invitation of my sign today that you still wouldn’t take the hint. I heard you yesterday say you were going to have to work today so the sign was a trick to get your attention. Did it work?”

“I did stop because of the sign. I wasn’t going to stop in but I had to. I uh...I hoped it was you.” Johnny could feel his cheeks heat up with the admission and then Pat’s breathy sigh on his ear.

“I hoped you’d stop.”

“So now what?”

“Bring lunch over at twelve thirty and then we’ll head over to Andy’s game.”

“But work.”

“Work will wait until Monday.”

“It’s important though.”

“Is your boss there?”

“No.”

“Then how important can it be? Grab a deep dish and meet me over here at twelve thirty. I’m closing at noon. Just knock and I’ll let you in. See you in an hour!”

Johnny opened his mouth to protest but Pat was already gone. He looked down at the papers he was supposed to be going over, debating what to do on his mind. 

_‘You’re always serious. You need to loosen up.’_

Pat’s word came to the front of his mind and he shoved the papers back and stood, pulling his jacket back on. He walked into the break room, pulling menus off a bulletin board before grabbing the one for Sarpino’s and called in an order. An hour later, he knocked at the door to Pat’s coffee shop and Pat opened the door with a grin.

“I didn’t think you’d show,” Pat said as he locked the door.

“I’m here,” Johnny said, setting the pizza box on the counter by the register. Pat turned to face him his mouth opening to speak but Johnny pushed him back against the wall and kissed him instead, his tongue snaking into Pat’s open mouth. Johnny’s hand sought his hair, tugging the curls as Pat’s hips collided with his. When they broke apart, both gasped for air for a second before Pat smirked.

“Guess you aren’t so serious after all.”

 

**FIN**

**Author's Note:**

> In case you wondered, yes, I did drop a few other Blackhawks in here for funsies.


End file.
